


stars will shine

by retrofuturing



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Completely removed from canon, Essentially: how I want Lucio's route to go., F/M, Not Beta'd, You'll see what I mean, this is a redemptive story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-06-30 21:32:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15760122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrofuturing/pseuds/retrofuturing
Summary: “You would take his place?” It asked.“If I did, would you let him go?” I counter, trying not to sound like I was begging. I don’t know how I was faring on that front. Blind desperation wouldn’t help my case.“...Yes.” It replied. “However, you must promise to stay here forever.” I bit my lip. Faust anxiously moved in and out of my shawl around my neck and shoulders. I took a deep breath."You have my word."





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Two things: title comes from Laura Mvula's "Sing to the Moon", and i took liberties with the layout of the castle, forgive me. also!!! this isn't gonna be a word-for-word rehash of the disney film, it just kinda is that way now because we have to Set This Up.

There once was a count who had almost everything he desired in life. He had all the riches in the world, a loving kingdom, and a beautiful wife. And yet, things were not as they seemed. The riches came from bloody conquests, the kingdom was slowly but steadily dying under his rule, and he and his wife never loved one another. One could argue that he never had it in him to love, and certainly no qualities to be loved in return.

And despite all this, he was selfish. He thought himself to be above death, and when he was discovered to have caught a deadly plague- he panicked. With his certain death hanging over his head, he became foolish and rash. An already risky ritual to grant him a new body was hastily thrown together, and moved forward without all the necessary components for it to work. 

Needless to say, it did not. Some of that was due to the count’s own oversight, and some of it was due to a magician beating the count at his own game. The body was given to the magician’s love, and the count was stuck between realms… cast into the beastly form from the tarot card he so unwisely fawned over. Gone were his good looks, and he was weaker than ever. 

But he knew, somehow, how to fix the problem. _If he could learn to love another, and earn their love in return, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time._

As time past, he grew bitter. Bitter at the magician, and his young lover, for stealing his new body. Bitter at his doctor for not bothering to cure the plague. Bitter at his wife for never truly loving him. And bitter at himself for letting his vanity take over his mind, and never allowing himself the opportunity to love. He slowly resigned himself to living alone for the rest of time, for who could ever learn to love a beast?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was written in mock- fairy tale style so???


	2. Chapter One

The once bright palace loomed over me, now a dark and imposing figure in the night sky. The citizens of Vesuvia didn’t know what happened to the beloved Count and Countess that once ruled over, but no one dared to enter through the now rusted gates that guarded the palace. But I knew this is where Asra had gone to, on one of his many adventures, and it has been too long without any word from him, not even a dream. The thing that finally spurred me to venture out and search for him was Faust, his familiar, showing up in the Shop, worried and pressing me to rescue Asra. For a snake, she sure was persuasive. I had set out almost immediately, making the long trek through the city to the palace.

The snake in question curled around my shoulders, head right next to my ear. She was speaking too fast for me to decipher, and I tried to tune her out as I pushed open the gate. Surprisingly, it gave way without question, the locking mechanism having long been broken. Probably from mischievous teens trying to dare one another to enter the grounds, sharing stories of ghosts and demons. If they did end up being brave enough to trespass in the castle, they typically never came back out, and if they did… well, they didn’t have much to say that wasn’t an incoherent mess. We Vesuvians were a superstitious bunch, and just hearing tales of the now abandoned palace being haunted was enough to deter most citizens.

The bridge leading to the ornate palace doors was quiet, the only sound from the ravine far below. I could hear water rushing underneath me, as well as the occasional bird call. Peeking over the side, I saw shapes twisting in and out of the muddy banks that lined the winding river. Vampire eels, Faust supplied, answering my unspoken question. Shuddering at the thought of a bite from one such creature, I stepped away from the railing and made sure to stay in the center, despite knowing that it was unlikely I’d fall off. Every step closer to the palace made my heart rate speed up, until it was the only thing I could hear, alongside the ever growing knot in my stomach. Faust wound herself tighter around me, and I knew she was both trying to comfort herself and me. 

“We’ll find him, don’t worry.” I said to her, sounding more brave than I felt. I knew she knew this, but I hope she appreciated the sentiment. 

We had reached the doors, and, even though I knew it was silly to knock on an empty buildings door, I raised my fist, pounding out a few knocks out on the door. Even if there wasn’t ghosts and demons inside, it was still smart to err on the side of caution and be respectful. The knocks echoed around, and I was about to just try and break the door open, when the door clicked and slowly swung open, just wide enough for me to slide through. 

This made me feel worse than if nothing had happened. 

Once inside, dust and age had transformed what must have been a once lavish entry-way into an aged memento from the past. The paintings that must have once lined the hallways must have either been stolen or put someplace else, if the discolorations in the wallpaper were any tell of what the hallway was once like. The chandeliers and candelabras that once lit the hall were now home to years upon years of cobwebs, connecting their arms and candles to one another. The carpet in the center of the marble walkway was faded and produced a small cloud of dust every single time I took another step. 

Faust snaked her way under my shawl, hissing out things too quiet for me to hear. I could feel energy in the building, and it was not left over residue from the last time the Count threw a party. It was recent. And it was powerful. 

“H-Hello? Is anybody here?” I called out, my cracking voice ringing through the arched ceiling, coming back to me with no answer. My ears strained, trying to find an answer in the silence, the silence that weighed down heavily on me. And then- a footstep? That was definitely a footstep. “I’m looking for my friend, please!” I rushed to where the noise had came from, cringing at the desperation I could hear in my voice. More footsteps- and these definitely weren’t my own just echoing back at me. It was an animal, it’s hooked nails tapping against the marble walkways. Had animals found their way into the palace and made it their home? The animal sounded as if it was running, so I quickly followed the sound down a hallway and turned into a doorway and… 

Out into a garden. Birds chirped around me, the thrum of insects and wildlife creating a sudden symphony of noise in comparison to the deathly silence of the palace’s interior. 

I stood now on a veranda, and had a icy feeling that I was both being watched and laughed at, led on a wild goose chase through an abandoned palace. I was about to give up, and accept that Faust had been wrong and Asra was neither here nor in danger when something caught my eye. Or, rather, somethings. A ginormous hedge maze lay in the center of the garden, spreading out towards the edges of the palace’s boundaries, and at the entrance to the maze sit two lean, pure white dogs with red eyes. 

They’re watching me. Faust is quiet as they get up and approach me. They’re cute, but I know that they must have been trained to be vicious- these are hunting dogs for sure. I stay still, not giving in to the voice in my head screaming at me to get away. They’d only catch me if I ran. 

Once they reach me, they’re moving all around me, sniffing and nudging their noses into my personal space. My bag seems to interest them greatly, and their noses continuously try to sneak their way into the small opening. I think back to what could possibly be in there that they want, and I pull the bag up to me to rummage through it. At the bottom is a pomegranate, which I had completely forgot putting in there earlier this morning. At the sight of the fruit, the two dogs sit back on their haunches, tongues flailing out as they look at me with their big eyes. 

I put it down and roll it to them, and they quickly tear it apart once it reaches close enough to them. Once they finish with their snack, they look back at me with red stained mouths, tongues wagging. I don’t let myself think of what the red reminds me of. The dogs get up and begin walking back towards the maze, stopping halfway there to look back at me, as if telling me to follow. And, wiping my sweaty palms on my skirt, I do. 

Faust murmurs things, and I find myself catching _Asra? Danger! Go back home! Asra!_ I quietly shush her. “This is for Asra.” I say, making sure to keep my voice low so the dogs don’t hear, even though I’m sure that’s silly. Besides, they heard me calling out for help earlier… 

We enter a small clearing, with benches and trees, and a decently sized fountain in the center. Multiple pathways branched out from this clearing, making me think that maybe we were at the center of the maze. The two dogs have stopped in front of an archway, too dark for me to be able to see the inside clearly. Two statues of goats interlocked in battle make up most of the archway, a curious addition in the garden. They look at me, waiting. Part of me is screaming to stop, turn back. But my overly curious nature urges my feet forward. I can feel the dogs’ eyes on me as I pass underneath the two goats, and am about to turn to look at them when the floor gives out from under me. 

_Shit._

I fall for a few seconds before my feet make impact with the floor, causing my legs to buckle out from under me. My hands fly out in front of me, catching myself before I hit my head on the solid marble floor. My hands and knees sting from the impact on the floor, and I can feel the dust that must have been disturbed by my fall settle back down. I collapse slightly, suddenly exhausted, now laying on the ground. In the back of my mind I know I have to get up, if just to keep my clothes from becoming dirtier. If that is possible. 

With a heavy sigh, I lift myself into a seated position on the floor, squinting at my surroundings. It smells musty and of ash, and with that realization I know where I am. _The Count’s wing._ A cold shock runs down my spine and I pull myself onto my feet. _I shouldn’t be here._ I shift my gaze around, trying to decipher which way was the way out of the hall, and conjure a small ball of light in my hand to light my way. 

“Elowen!?” Asra’s voice rings through the corridor, coming from my right. I immediately begin to run towards his voice, my foot falls echoing around me. When I reach a fork in the hallways, I call out his name, and heard his responding cry of- “Here!”. I head down the left fork, which took me to a flight of stairs, ascending up into one of the towers, I assume. 

I begin my climb, using my hand to light the way. At the top of the stairs, a small door stands ajar, and I burst through, revealing a small room of about five cells, all empty except one. 

Asra has his head pressed against the bars of the door, his face stricken with fear, though his face is in shadows from me. I rush towards him and begin to fiddle with the rusted lock keeping him in. 

“Asra! Thank goodness I was able to fine you, let’s get you out of-” He shook his head at me, effectively cutting me off. 

“No. Elowen, I can handle myself, but I need you to go and leave Vesuvia as soon as possible.” He spoke calmly, if a bit hurried. I dropped the lock. 

“What do you mean- leave Vesuvia? Without you?” I couldn’t fathom it. Asra was all I’ve known for the past few years, despite his frequent absences. “Why? Why do you want to stay in this hellhole?” I reached through the bars and cupped his cheek in my hand, bringing his face to the light. He placed his hand over mine, and sighed, before he began coughing. 

“I have to fix a mess that I created, and you can’t be involved. It’s too dangerous for-” 

“Too dangerous?” I cut him off. “If it’s too dangerous for me then it’s too dangerous for you and I won’t let you do this alone- whatever it is! Besides, you’re sick, and will only get worse if you stay here.” I returned my hands to the lock and began to rustle with it again. “Who is keeping you here, then? It can’t be yourself! Faust said you were in danger and I’m here to rescue you… as horribly cheesy as that sounds.” I pulled on the lock, willing it to break. Rust was coloring my hands red and brown, and I could feel sweat dripping down my neck. 

Asra put his hands over mine, stopping their movement. “You and Faust need to go before…” He trailed off, looking past me. His gaze turned hateful, and his face altered into a cold look I’ve never seen on him before. It chilled me. I was about to open my mouth and ask what was wrong, when I felt a presence behind me.

“ _Before it’s too late?_ ” I froze, hands still on the lock, at the voice from behind me. “Oh, Asra. Letting your little… pet come and save you?” 

Asra sneered. “Don’t bring her into this. Whatever you need me for, you don’t need her for.” Asra’s hands were covering mine, giving them a light squeeze. “Let her leave the palace.” 

“No! Not without you!” I interrupted, finding my voice again, despite my fear. Asra had to look away for another coughing fit. I’ve never seen him this sick before, he’s always had remedies for illness and malaise. With sudden resolution, I knew what I had to do. 

I bent down to press a kiss to Asra’s knuckles, before jerking my hands from his grasp. I turned to face the other. Whatever it was stayed in the shadows, avoiding the pool of light filling the center of the room. All I could see were two red eyes, three feet above my head, staring down at me. I swallowed audibly, and took a step away from the door. 

“What if I were to replace him?” I asked, looking up. “Take me in his place.”

“Elowen, no! Don’t do this, let me face this on my own!” Asra said from behind me, grabbing my wrist in his hand. I pulled it out from his grip again. 

“Let me do this for you, Asra. You’ve done so much for me. You’ve faced too much on your own for me, it’s time for me to return the favor.” I don’t take my eyes away from the two above me, which are now taking me in, no emotion in them. But I desperately want to curl up in Asra’s arms, be protected by him. But I know I can’t. 

“You would take his place?” It asked. 

“If I did, would you let him go?” I counter, trying not to sound like I was begging. I don’t know how I was faring on that front. Blind desperation wouldn’t help my case. 

“...Yes.” It replied. “However, you must promise to stay here forever.” I bit my lip. Faust anxiously moved in and out of my shawl around my neck and shoulders. 

I squinted, still unable to make out the thing- whatever it was. Since I was standing in the light, and it was able to see me, it would only be fair for me to see my soon-to-be captor. “Come into the light.” 

Slowly, as if unsure or just trying to be dramatic, a cloven hoof stepped into the light, followed my another. My eyes slowly moved up from the ground all the way past the pure white fur to the two red eyes, staring at me out of an almost deformed goat’s head, complete with horns that almost reached the vaulted ceiling. The creature stood around eight feet tall, with a leering posture causing it to lean towards me. I suddenly felt small and insignificant. 

Shocked, I gasped and turned back to Asra, who was looking at me in concern. “Don’t do this Elowen, please.” His body was once again racked with coughs, which shook me more than the monster behind me. I took a second to compose myself, before turning back around to face it. 

“You have my word.” I said, feeling my heart sink low into my stomach. The creature brushed past me as I collapsed, and I heard the rusty hinges of Asra’s cell being flung open. I stared at my hands, willing away any tears. I couldn’t do anything that would make Asra act foolish. He had to let me save him this time. I could feel Asra being dragged out of his cell, and his snappy remarks towards the creature. The door to the tower slammed shut, and I was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asra only let lucio drag him around bc he's sick. if he had been Well(tm) this whole thing would have never happened.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which elowen is confused by utensils and lucio is a motherfucking hard character to write. all lucio roleplay/headcanon blogs are braver than any US marine for daring to give him a character (oop).
> 
> again, not beta'd, so if there are any glaring mistakes feel free to point them out (but kindly, i am very weak)

It felt like hours had passed when the creature once again entered the tower, even though I knew it couldn’t have been more than half an hour, at most. I was still staring at my hands, unable to bring myself to move. My mind was just catching up with the events of the last few hours, from Faust finding her way into the shop all the way to me willingly giving up my freedom. Speaking of the snake, she was currently still and silent on my shoulders. I’m glad she stayed, at least I have one connection to Asra with me. 

“You didn’t even let me say goodbye.” I whispered to my hands, before looking up at the monster. “I’ll never see him again, and you didn’t let me say goodbye.” The words were loud and accusatory, and the beast seemed to know that. There was a stagnant pause, in which we stared each other down. It felt like we were finally truly sizing each other up. And despite me being literally on my knees in front of it, I didn’t let myself wither in it’s gaze. The pause lasted a few moments longer and then- 

“I’ll show you to your room.” It said, turning away from me and headed towards the door. I start. My… room?

“Pardon?” 

“Did you think I’d let a guest stay in the tower? Don’t be silly.” It said, looking back at me, before opening the door and holding it open. “However begrudgingly I am housing you, I still am going to show some hospitality.” It’s face morphed into a sick imitation of a smile, and I quickly get up, tensing as I pass by the creature, and ignoring the dust covering the front of my skirt and bodice. Once I’m out of the room, it moves to walk in front of me, leading the way down the stairs. 

“I just- I just thought I was your prisoner now?” I say, trailing behind it. 

“Do you want to stay in the tower, because I can certainly lock you in there if that’s what you want.” 

“No, that’s okay.” I say quickly. We fall into silence as we finish descending the staircase. “Um… Mr. Goat...man?” I say as we reach the bottom landing and continue down the hall. The creature stops short, causing me to walk into him. 

“...What did you just call me?” He says, giving me a glance back. 

“Oh!” I feel my face heat up, feeling dumb suddenly. “I just thought that… Is that not what you are? Do you have a name?” 

“Of course I have a name.” He says no more. I chew my lip, nervously pondering. A few minutes have passed before he stops in front of a door. “This is where you’ll be staying. If you need anything, there are plenty of ways to find help around the palace, you just have to look for it. You are free to go wherever you want, except my wing- the wing where the tower was.”

“Why can’t I-”

“It’s forbidden!” He shouts, and I can feel it shake the door we’re standing next to. I nod slowly. Satisfied, he opens the door, revealing a darkened room. I can’t make out anything inside. I’m about to thank him and head into the room when- “Lucio.” 

“What?” I say, turning. He looks down at me, no emotions present on his face. Maybe it’s harder for goats to emote properly. I think back on our limited conversation, and realize what he means. “Oh. I’m Elowen.” 

“I know.” 

And with that, he turns to leave, but not before stopping and shooting a quick, “You will join me for dinner. That is not a request.” The door slams shut in my face. 

Hopelessness wells inside me. The weight of my actions comes crashing down like a thousand bricks on my shoulders, and I rest my head against the door. Tears spring in my eyes, and I feel the familiar knot in the back of my throat. A sob escapes me, and I slide down the door, before crumpling onto the ground. Before I know it, I’m gasping through my sobs, my body shaking. 

I lay on the ground next to the door, my breathing slowing with each passing minute. I realize how tired I am, and push myself into a sitting position against the door. I will the candles to light, and they slowly begin to flicker weakly. The room is filled with their warm and ever shifting glow, juxtaposing the coldness in my stomach. This is for Asra, I reminded myself. My room had tall ceilings, with two small crystal chandeliers hanging down. A large bed- larger than I believed a bed could be- was centered against one wall. The sheets looked so soft, and I resisted the urge to jump onto it and just fall asleep, burrow myself away with only Faust as my company. A large ornate mirror took up space on the opposite wall, next to it gilded doors to what I assumed was a closet. I had no use for that- I would probably be confined to my current clothes for the rest of my life. Ugh. Finally, a desk with writing supplies was in one corner, and the other was a uncomfortable looking chair. This was definitely once a room for guests. A silver lining, I supposed, I could have been put in the servants quarters. Speaking of… 

I have seen no servants since I arrived, nothing living except for the dogs and the creature- Lucio. And whether he was living was debatable. I sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. There’s no way he would do any work (although, looking at the state of the place, someone hasn’t been doing their job cleaning). I was on the brink of another small revelation regarding the nature of this place, when a knock met my ears from the door. 

Nervous energy shot through me. There’s no way that’s Lucio- I doubt he’d knock, and the only reason he would have to come to my room would be to get me for dinner (which I, again, doubt he’d do himself or that it was ready so soon) or to kill me. I hope he didn’t want to kill me. I slowly got up from the bed, letting Faust fall from my shoulders. She curled up on the bed behind me as I walked to the door. Slowly turning the handle, I yanked the door open to reveal… nothing. Oh, wait, not nothing. A pile of fabric was on the ground in front of the door. I was about to bend down to pick it up when a head popped out from the pile. It was a cat, and I don’t think anything could have prepared me for it to start talking. 

“Hi there!” She said in a sweet voice.. “I’m Portia, and I was told to bring clothes for you. If these aren’t to your taste we can always find more- heaven knows we have plenty of clothes just laying around- or we can make you some. These are just temporary. Plus you’ll need something to wear for dinner.” She looks me up and down. 

“Are you going to be at dinner?” I ask, moving to pick up the clothes and move them to the bed. She follows, her ginger hair warmly glowing in the candlelight. The clothes are vibrant, the most colorful fabric I’ve seen aside from what Asra normally wears. And even those pale in comparison to these meticulously crafted pieces. Portia jumps onto the bed, and begins pawing through the fabrics.

“Me? At dinner with the Count?” She starts laughing and I feel my face heat up. “No, no. I suspect it’ll just be you two. A few servants will probably be in the room as well, but they won’t dine.” I focus down on the dresses again, holding a few up to my body. “We can always alter them for later, or pin them just for tonight.”

“And how will you do that?” I ask, picking up a blue dress with intricate stitching all over the bodice. It was gorgeous, simple but elegant. Something you’d expect a visitor in the palace to wear. 

“Oh, it won’t be me. No, I lost that ability a while ago. There’s still some servants who have opposable thumbs.” She smiled- I think- at me. “Why don’t you try that on?” 

“Why can’t I just go in what I’m wearing now?” I ask, throwing the dress back down onto the bed. All the clothes are too lavish for me, someone who is currently wearing a simple blouse and skirt with a hand-me-down knit bag. 

“The Count said to find replacements for your rags.” She says, before adding on quickly before I can respond, “-his words, not mine.” 

“What if I don’t want to go to dinner?” I ask, picking the dress back up to continue examining it. I’d probably end up spilling some wine or whatever on it, ruining it. 

“You should go to dinner. It probably won’t last that long, he doesn’t enjoy boring conversations.” She gestures for me to put the dress on, and I slip my current clothes off. The dress is easy to slip over my head once the bodice has been unlaced, and I move to stand in front of Portia, to allow her to start lacing it up, using her mouth. It’s odd, but it works. 

“Gee, thanks.” I say, bristling at the insinuation that I was a boring person. 

“Oh! I didn’t mean that you were boring. It’s just… the Count has a pretty narrow idea of what constitutes as a riveting conversation. If it doesn’t have to do with murder or sex, he doesn’t care.” 

“That sounds more boring than anything I could come up with to talk about.” Dinner was beginning to sound more daunting than I initially thought. “I’ve never murdered someone, I don’t think, and I don’t want to talk about sex over dinner.” I turn to look down at her, and I notice Faust is watching as well. 

“Most people haven’t, and most people don’t.” She says, looking at me. “Wow. That fits you just right.” I don’t bother trying to ask how she knew what size I was. “I’m sure someone will be up to get you for dinner.” She begins to leave, telling me not to worry. She leaves through the open door, leaving me alone, feeling dumb and anxious, which is beginning to feel like my only emotion. 

I sigh and go through the other clothes, noticing the wide variety in colors, styles, and shapes. Some definitely won’t fit me (or just aren’t my style), and I throw those in a pile against the door. A few, however, are pretty nice. I pick up the ones I like and move to put them in the closet, but upon opening the door find that it is not a closet, but a small but lavish bathroom. This cannot be a staple in every guest room, so maybe I actually got lucky that I won’t have to wander the hallways naked with only a slip to cover me.

Silver linings. 

There’s a large pool in the center of the room, built into the floor, with a few taps around it’s edge. There’s a wall of mirrors, the other wall a window, making the small room feel huge. What I assume are the toilet and sink are behind a marble partition. There’s a shelf of soaps and perfumes next to the door, alongside towels and silk robes. I’m beginning to almost feel spoiled. 

I leave the bathroom and throw the clothes on the table in the corner, not caring if they get wrinkled. Lucio was stuck with me whether he liked it or not. Whether I liked it or not. 

I finally did what I’d been waiting to, and flung myself onto the bed, rolling myself to be in the center. This bed is excessively huge. I close my eyes and let myself idly drift off into a state of unconsciousness, not quite asleep, but not awake. My mind is blank, and I rest easy. 

It’s been at least half an hour of me laying on the bed, letting Faust sleep on my stomach, when the knock I’ve been dreading comes from the door. I don’t move for a few seconds, before groaning and sitting up, crawling across the bed and jumping off, padding quietly over to the door. Portia is waiting just outside to door.

“Time for dinner!” She chirps, and I sigh. The sooner I get there, the sooner this’ll be over. She leads me through the halls, and I’m too nervous to try and talk with her. “We are running slightly late, there was a hold up when I was on my way to your room.” She says as we near what I presume to be the dining room. “But, as long as he’s not already there when we arrive, you’ll be fine.” 

We’re close to the door when we hear two indistinct voices- one a bit louder than the other. Portia pales slightly. She gently knocks on the door, before pushing it open. The talking dies down immediately. It looks like Lucio and the other man in the room had been talking while Lucio paced. “Sorry, my lord, for the wait.” She steps aside to allow me to go through first and I could strangle her. Lucio’s red eyes meet mine, and I quickly avert my gaze to the other man. He’s tall, with darker hair and light eyes. He squints at me, not unkindly, but as if he’s trying to figure out who I am, or what my deal is. 

I then move my gaze to the table, which is long and has two place settings on either end. And in between these two place settings is the most food I’ve ever seen in my life, and my stomach growls loudly at the sight. I blush, but before I can say anything, perhaps excuse the fact that I am _starving_ , the taller man interjects. “I think she’s hungry, and there’s no need to keep waiting now that she’s arrived.” I look back at him. He has a small smile on his face, and I feel comforted in the fact that at least there’s two friendly faces around here. 

“Fine.” Lucio moves and sits at one end of the table, and I wait until he has settled before moving. As I move to sit, his eyes follow me, causing my heart to race. His gaze is unnerving. I quickly sit, and when I look back at the room, it’s empty save for a servant or two waiting by the kitchen doors. 

Great. 

Neither of us try to make conversation, and I’m looking at anything but Lucio. My eyes land on my plate, and all the utensils next to it. I have no idea why there’s so many of each. This dinner is literally going to kill me. The servants placed a light colored soup in front of me, and I was once again stumped by the amount of spoons. I looked up at Lucio, but he wasn’t eating, just looking bored. He was just staring into space. So I decided to grab a random spoon. A spoon is a spoon, it’ll do its job. 

However, almost as soon as I pick up the small spoon that’s placed above the plate, a scoff comes from Lucio’s direction. I look back up at him. “Is something wrong?” I ask, knowing what he was going to say. Something about the fucking spoon, probably. 

“That’s the wrong spoon.” He says, leering slightly. I almost laugh. 

“But does it matter? At all?” I ask, continuing to eat the soup. It’s pretty good- slightly sweet but with the occasional hints of salt adding contrast to the flavor. However, I do have my eye on the lobster on the table, so I try to contain my hunger for now, and just eat little tiny bits. He pointedly looks at me and picks up the spoon that is closest to his plate. 

“It does if you care about acting like you’re more than a... commoner.” He says, but I notice him struggling holding the spoon. I say nothing, and continue eating the soup. He eventually manages to bring the spoon to the soup, and slowly brings it to his mouth. This almost painful process goes on for a few minutes before he either decides he’s done or he gives up. I think it was the latter. 

Eventually, the servants take these bowls away, and leave us in silence. I wait for him to make a move on what to do next, and it seems as if he’s doing the same for me. The lobster in question is closer to him, and I consider just getting up and grabbing the platter. The servants aren’t moving, so I might have to do just that. 

“Normally, the servants would now bring out the next course and serve it, but since you were late, they decided to go ahead and bring it out before you got here.” Lucio says, taking a bit of ox that lays more towards the center of the table. I decide to just brave it and get up. I quickly rush over and grab the lobster, before going back to my seat, Lucio watching me the entire time. 

The lobster is just as good as I imagined- no better. I sighed contently. Maybe it was just because I’m starving, but I quickly finished my serving, and was more than full. I set down the random fork and knife that I had been using on the plate, and sat back in my chair, taking a sip of the wine offered. Red. 

“I see you managed to find replacements for those scraps you call clothing.” Lucio says. 

“Says someone who doesn’t wear clothes.” I retort quickly, putting my glass down before looking back at him. 

“I don’t need to.” 

“Not even a cape?” I ask. “That seems like it would be your style.”

“Fur clashes on fur.” He says, sitting back in his own chair. We stare at each other for a few minutes before he waves his hand. “You may go.” 

I decide to not push my luck with him, and quickly get up. My instilled manners remind me of something. “Thank you for dinner, and I hope you have a nice evening.” I spit out, and leave as fast as my feet allow me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u imagine how big lucio's goat hands would be lmao.
> 
> sorry for a non-plot heavy chapter, the next one will have plot trust me
> 
> anyway, I think I'm going to try to update on Wednesdays, and as of right now it looks like this'll be eight or nine chapters, depending on how I break things up. We'll see how I stick to that schedule, it seems like a lot of my assignments are due on Wednesdays so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I will post updates and shit on my tumblr @summercourtship so feel free to look there, or contact me there, or follow me if you want . ;)))))))))))
> 
> okay bye! :)


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enter nadia.

_I walked down the empty palace hallway, the dust and ruin that had covered them gone. The palace was oddly pristine, shining floors and glossy walls reflecting back at me a warped version of myself, echoing my footsteps back to me a few times over. I was alone._

_My feet were moving of their own accord, and I had the faint sense that I was dreaming. Dreams can be odd things; sometimes I can communicate with Asra through them, or even sometimes connecting with the cards I read. I can’t sense either of them in this realm, even though I do desperately wish to speak with Asra. I feel the need to reassure him that I’m okay and safe, guilt gnawing at my stomach if I think too hard about the actions I’ve made that have caused us to be seperated._

_I come up to a room I’ve never seen before, though my knowledge of the castle is extremely limited, so this isn’t very shocking. The door is ornate, as most important ones are, with gold and crystal door knobs and accents. Before I can even touch the handle, it clicks and swings open slowly, revealing a small tea parlor._

_The details of the room are hazy, out of focus. I notice the bright colors- purples and blues, with orange accents here and there, but the actual details of the room are lost to me._

_An imposing figure sits at the table in the center of the room, two delicate teacups with steaming tea already poured set out on the small table. She looks at me, and a curious smile graces her elegant face. Silently, she gestures for me to come in and take a seat. I do just that._

_Once seated, she starts adding honey to her tea, slowly stirring it, her spoon occasionally scraping the side of the cup. I look down at my cup, confused as to what’s going on. Why I’m suddenly contacting this woman who I’ve never met before, or why it feels like I have._

_“Go ahead, take a sip. It’s not poisoned.” She says, drawing my attention to her. I comply, taking a quick sip. It burns my tongue as it makes its way down my throat. I add sugar to the tea, stirring it and watching it slowly dissolve amongst the tea leaves._

_“I’m sorry, but who are you? Why am I here?” I ask after a few moments of silent sipping. She sighs and places the teacup back onto the saucer._

_“Forgive me for forgetting to introduce myself,” She says, “I’m the Countess.”_

_“Oh. So you’re married to Lucio, then?” I ask. Her nose turns up for a second in disgust, but when I blink, she’s once again composed._

_“I have no connections with my ex-husband.” She says._

_“Ex?” I ask._

_“I consider being burned alive, even if he is currently using the palace as his stomping grounds in the form of a- goat, I believe?” She asks. I nod. “Nevertheless, I consider being burned alive to be enough to constitute as death doing us part.” She takes a sip of her tea. I nod again in understanding._

_“As to why you, my dear, are here… I’m not sure.” She looks worried. “My dreams are normally not so… cohesive.” She pauses again, losing herself in her thoughts. I sit quietly, sipping the tea. It tastes expensive, even in a dream. “I suppose you are the key.”_

_“Key?”_

_“Hmmm… I believe so, yes. Though, what and where the lock is has yet to be discovered, evidently.” She looks me in the eyes. I decide to not respond to her cryptic answer, and store it away to ponder over later._

_“Where are you… in the daytime?” I ask, her stare unnerving me. It felt like she could look at my soul, as cliche as that sounds._

_“I’m not quite sure of that either.” She says. “I seem to be stuck in a cycle of dreams, most of them nonsensical.” And she loses herself again, her eyes fixing on a point past me. “You could always ask my… dearly departed Lucio.” She says, unkindly. I can see a pretty clear picture of what their relationship must have been like, if he was anything like how he is now._

_“The Lucio I’ve met is not so departed.”_

_“Oh? Yes, I guess it does make sense that you would be in the palace, and that’s how you came to be in my dream.” She nods. “Are you normally able to lucid dream like this?”_

_“Yes I, uh...I normally use it to visit my master, Asra. He’s taught me everything I know about magic,” I say, “but I’ve never be able to visit others like this, when we don’t have a connection.”_

_The Countess looks at me and smiles slightly. “The only logical conclusion from that is we do have a connection, then.”_

_The dream starts to fade, and I know I’m slowly waking myself up._

_“Oh, and Elowen?” She asks. I do my best to acknowledge her. “Next time, feel free to call me Nadia.”_

___________

It had been two months since I first arrived in the palace, and everyday that passed felt like a day I was wasting away. I often wandered through the garden, and would do my best to hang out with Portia and Julian, the man who was with Lucio before our first dinner. Julian knew a lot of the odd secrets, like some of the more secluded clearings in the maze, the best private baths, some secret ways out of the castle that I dared not go near… Even though I wonder if Lucio would even notice if I did leave. We would eat a dinner together two or three times a week, but the other days I would take my meals in my room. I didn’t even see him outside of that, aside from occasionally passing him while walking through the halls. We hardly ever talked. 

Today is one of those days where nothing seems to quell my boredom. I sit on the veranda alone, working on an embroidery piece I started a few days ago. I never embroidered before I came to the palace, but Portia has been helping me as much as she physically and vocally can, and I examine the pieces that I’ve found shoved away in drawers in abandoned rooms. It helps to pass the time, I suppose. I have a bundle of extra fabric I found lying around tucked away in my bag, ready to be used for more practice when I’m ready, but I suspect the piece I’m working on now won’t be finished for a while at this rate. 

However, something keeps nagging the back of my mind, in between the stitches and loops of the thread. I was curious about why Lucio didn’t want me to go into his wing. Whenever I passed by, I felt a draw, something calling for me from the top of the darkened stair. I normally didn’t pass through there, and if I had to I did it quickly. But perhaps he just wanted privacy, but I personally felt that since he was the reason I’m cooped up in this hellhole, he doesn’t really have a right to privacy. 

Once my thoughts got to this place, I normally toyed with the idea of sneaking up there and seeing what was really going on. But today it felt different. I quickly made the decision, and shoved the embroidery back into my back to finish later. 

Today I was finally gonna figure it out.

Going back into the palace, I was able to quickly make my way to the darkest part of the main corridor. The dark stairs loomed in front of me, a mystery I was diving head first into. Taking a deep breath, I slowly took a small step onto the stairs, my sweaty hand gripping the guardrail. Butterflies were pounding against my stomach, but I continued climbing up the stairs. 

After what felt like an eternity, I made it to the top landing. It smelled like ash, reminding me of my first day in the palace, when I dropped out of nowhere into this corridor… I take my time now to examine my surroundings, not sure if I’ll ever be able to return. The light I’ve conjured is stronger in my hand, illuminating more this time around. 

It was dusty. Did the Count even spend any time up here? The plush carpet runner going down the hallway was thick with cobwebs, every footfall on it raised tiny clouds of grime into the air. Silence pounded my eardrums, making my heartbeat seem like cannon shots firing one after the other. 

Paintings line the corridor, and I take a close look at one. From what I can tell, the subject is handsome, with blonde hair and sharp features. But his eyes are missing, torn out, leaving uneven scraps of fabric in its place. Looking at some of the other paintings, they all share this fate. 

I pass a few doors, but they either lead to empty rooms or are locked. I move on past them, when a set of elaborate doors draw my attention. They open without complaint into a large bedroom. The Count’s room. I close the doors behind me, trapping me in the stifling room. Maybe I’m imagining it, but I can almost feel the tiny particles of ash in the air cling to my skin. I try and will the lamps to light, but to no avail, so I’m left with my handheld light and the tiniest bit of moonlight streaming through one of the windows. 

A large bed takes up a good portion of one side of the room- the Count’s deathbed. By the smell of ash, I doubt his remains were ever cleaned up. I make an effort to stay away from that side of the room. There’s a desk and some chairs, a large fireplace. Assorted pieces of furniture lays broken all around the room. It’s too dark to make out anything else.

The moonlight itself is falling directly onto a large painting, probably twice my height, across from the bed. The same figure- Lucio, I now assume, feeling dumb for not piecing it together before- takes up the frame on a desolate battlefield, regal and proud. Unlike the others, his face isn’t ruined in this one, but as I examine it closer I notice the edges of it are curiously curling up, rotting away with dark mold and dirt discoloring it’s surface. A good portion of the painting has fallen off, littering the floor beneath it, leaving only the torso and head of the painted Lucio intact and colorful. 

Something urges me to touch the painting- impulsivity has always been my downfall, apparently. The intact parts are so realistic, it looks like it should feel like fabric over taut muscle if I were to reach up and gently place my hand on it. I have my trembling hand raised and I’m hesitantly reaching towards the painting, the heat of the room bearing down on me, sweat clinging to my hairline and I consider pulling my hair into a knot when the air is suddenly sucked out of the room. An icy chill washes over me and I can feel him. 

“What are you doing in here?!” Lucio yells, suddenly in front of me, separating me from the painting, grabbing my raised arm and flinging me to the side as if I weighed next to nothing. I crash to the ground, hitting my hip on a table as I fall, surely bruising it. “I told you not to come in here!” He gives a cursory glance to the painting, as if assessing any damage I could have done. 

“I’m sorry, I just wanted-” I start to say, trying to come up with an excuse quick enough, but he quickly cuts me off with another yell. 

“Get out!” Lucio once again grabs me and pulls me to my feet before pushing me- hard- in the direction of the door, but I only manage to make it to the bedpost before a table leg barely misses my arm. “OUT! GET OUT!” He barely avoids screaming, his voice piercing my ears and causing my heart to race. I push myself off the post and scramble to the door that stands slightly ajar. I yank it open, and run out as if the Devil himself were at my heels. 

Adrenaline floods my veins as I rush out of the hall. Is my mind playing tricks on me or are the paintings laughing cruelly at me? Down the steps. Past Portia and Julian, who must have heard the commotion and come to see what was the matter, and Faust is curled on the bottom of the railing, her light voice hurriedly worrying over everything that’s happening. 

“What are you doing?” Portia asks from her perch on Julian’s broad shoulder, and I pick up Faust and gently put her into my bag. 

“Leaving this hellhole! I can’t stay here another minute.” I gasp out, adjusting my back and continuing to run down the corridor. I burst out onto the veranda, suddenly remembering the little door in the garden wall that Julian mentioned one day. I quickly make my way in that direction, prying open the rusted servant’s door when I finally come across it and push myself through it. The wide fields are daunting this late at night, but it’s either this or go back into the palace with the angry Count. I know which one I prefer. 

Soon, I’m the far edges of a district I don’t recognize, feeling the icy ebbs of regret start to form in my stomach. I can’t turn around, but I have no idea where to go from here. Any buildings are still far away, but the dirt paths have quickly morphed into cobblestone. I rush alongside a canal, red water mixing with the dark from the aqueducts from the mountains. Maybe if I follow the canal I’ll be able to find my way to the shop, I think, right before my foot catches on a wet stone and I stumble and fall right into the water. 

This would have been fine- no, this should have been fine. I know enough about swimming to help me survive. However, vampire eels are a completely different factor in my survival at this moment, and no one teaches lessons on how to avoid them if you fall into their territory. Tiny sharp pains, like a thousand needles pricking me all at once, blossom along my calf. I gasp in pain, but only succeed in breathing in a lungful of the contaminated water. In my blurry vision, I see flashes of more of the silvery white eels, and realize they are toying with me, biding for their time to attack, instead of all working on killing me at once. I thrash around a bit more despite myself, before my vision starts to cloud and the ringing in my ears intensifies…

And I’m suddenly on the side of the canal, the vampire eel that was feasting on my leg squirming in Lucio’s claw, he himself now submerged to his mid-chest in the water. He looks me in the eyes and my lips part, not sure what to say. Gratitude? A scathing comment? An apology? But his eyes widen and he clenches his teeth in pain, and I know that he must be getting attacked now, as well. 

It’s an opportunity. He fights them off pretty well, I observe, especially for a man with one arm, and I could easily escape while he’s trying to survive. But thinking of my stinging and bloody calf, albeit bleeding less than it was a few seconds ago, and for some reason, the thought of leaving him behind gives me an awful taste in my mouth. Fuck. 

By this point, he’s pulled himself onto the cobblestone shore, blood staining his fur. He either killed or scared off the other eels, but he could still easily bleed out and die like this. Thinking fast, I find the extra fabric from my bag and tie it into a makeshift bandage for my throbbing calf and cast a simple spell to keep it in place. Faust pokes her head out the bag, and I’m relieved slightly. If she’s okay, I’ll be okay. I still don’t have enough fabric for Lucio, but if I can get him back to the palace, I’m sure someone there will know what to do. 

Lucio’s eyes have slid shut by the time I turn to deal with him, and I’m at a loss as to what to do. His chest rises and falls slowly, and I shuffle over to him. 

“Lucio… I need to get you to stand so we can make our way back to the palace.” I say, unsure if he can hear me. I lightly slap his face, hoping to wake him up (if he was even asleep in the first place). He groans slightly, which I take as a positive sign. As long as he’s responding to me, I won’t worry. “I’m just gonna work you up to ah, a sitting position, and then we can stand. This isn’t going to be pleasant for either of us, I’ll have you know.” I mumble the last part under my breath, before working my arm underneath his torso, and slowly begin to pull/push him into a seated position. While I slowly help him to stand, I wrack my brain for a spell that might help, and remember one that deals with lifting heavy objects. I suppose that could work, even if it’s only a little help. Once we’re standing, and my face is halfway pressed into his chest, unable to hold him up due to his weight and height, I cast the spell. It doesn’t make him weightless, but I can endure struggling to walk with him using me as a crutch now. 

I’m already exhausted and we haven’t even begun the trek to the palace yet, which seems much too far away. I heave a sigh, adjust Lucio’s position against me and we begin to walk back up the hill, leaving a bloody mess behind us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn’t steal that scene from julian’s route but it makes more sense than wolves. Im not tooooo happy with this one, but im tired of staring at it, i just hate action-oriented sequences. oh and do not worry, more worldbuilding next chapter hopefully so itll make sense (if it hasn't already) why portia's a cat because its not just because haha.
> 
> i have a tumblr: @summercourtship ! thank you for all kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, and comments :)))))
> 
> any mistakes? feel free to point them out but pls be kind im but a poor child


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> go read the cruel prince by holly black. not for any particular reason, it was just really good and i feel the need to recommend it to everyone.

“This isn’t normally how people get my clothes off.” 

“Don’t make this weird.” I say. “Besides, these are bandages, not clothes- clothes that you don’t wear, if you remember. I just need to make sure your bites aren’t infected.” I finish taking off the bloody bandages, noting that the bites were well on their way to being fully healed, the blood clotted but not fully scabbed over yet. I gently touch one of the deeper injuries, leading to Lucio swearing and swatting my hand away. “Does it still hurt?” 

“Not much.” He turns away from me. 

“Then why-” 

“Oh, he just likes to complain.” Julian says, walking in with a bundle of bandages. He’s been doing most of the doctoring, but I felt the need to help. At first he didn’t want me to bother, what with my own injury, but I had nothing better to do and he grew tired of me hovering, so he put my restless hands to work. It was enjoyable, aside from the fact that Lucio was a pain in the ass to work with sometimes. 

We’re in the main parlor, mainly because it was the closest place I could drag Lucio that was suitable for him. I certainly wasn’t going to try and take him back to his room, both because I never wanted to go back there, and there was a lot of stairs. The trek back up to the palace was unbearable, and I almost immediately passed out in the couch next to the one I left Lucio in, still wet and covered in Lucio’s and my own blood. I awoke to a silent room, save for the slow breathing of Lucio. 

I took a long bath after that, and returned to find Julian inspecting Lucio. I told him the barest version of the story, before allowing him to look at my bite. He remarked how lucky we were to escape, as vampire eels are not known for giving up easily. I stayed silent, watching him clean Lucio’s wounds with alcohol (luckily, Lucio was still passed out, so we didn’t have to endure his reactions to that). 

Julian inspects Lucio’s wounds, before gesturing at me to get up from my position on the floor. He checks my own injury, which is healing slowly but surely. He hands me more bandages, which I wrap around my calf as he starts redressing Lucio’s wounds. He works carefully, despite occasionally poking holes in the bandages. His fingers over the past few weeks have slowly turned more claw like, I’ve noticed. I haven’t brought it up, just as I haven’t brought up Portia being a cat. It didn’t seem polite. The very same reason I’ve not asked Lucio about his own… goat-ness, now that I knew for certain he was, once, human. 

Julian swears when he accidentally rips the bandage, destroying the tension he was creating, causing the entire thing to loosen and unravel around Lucio’s torso. “I can take care of that, Julian.” I say, moving to take the roll away from him. I take the old bandages, already slightly bloody, and throw them into the fireplace, watching them burn for a moment before turning back to Lucio to begin the process again. Julian’s left us alone, again. 

It’s quiet, and I look up at Lucio, who’s looking at me. I pull a bit too tight, distracted, and he inhales sharply. “Sorry.” I apologize. 

“Well this never would have happened if you hadn’t run away.” He says, and I step back slightly, stung. I can’t help that I can’t leave right now, moving to finish wrapping him. 

“I would have never run away if you hadn’t frightened me.” I snap back. 

“That would have never happened if you hadn’t gone into my wing.” He looks smug now, and I scoff. 

“You need to learn how to control your temper. Throwing things around- including me- is not a productive use of your anger.” I say, finishing dressing the wound. It’s a bit messy, not as nice as Julian’s, but I doubt Lucio will be receiving any guests soon, so it hardly matters. He pauses, lost at a response. I feel bad, though. This really would never have happened if I hadn’t been so reckless, if I hadn’t broke one of the only rules he set up… Damn it. I’m in the wrong here. 

“Thank you… um, for saving me from those eels. I’d be dead in the bottom of the canal had you not followed me.” I say quietly, half turned away from him. He’s silent. I look up at him, and he seems shocked into silence. Maybe… maybe he’s not as bad as I thought. 

After that, I begin to spend more time in the parlor. Often times we stick to our silent routines. I embroider, or write letters, or read one of the many books I’ve found laying around. Other times, we talk. 

I tell him about my life (as much as I remember) before I came to be in the palace. I think he enjoys hearing about the way I lived with Asra. I definitely don’t tell him that Asra and I shared the same bed, he’d think that was insinuating something that wasn’t there. He tells me about his life, which he remembers much more of and has had more of, in general. He tells me about the tribe he was raised in, which he was exiled from. When I ask why, he goes silent for a few minutes. 

I don’t press it. 

He tells me about his life as a mercenary, which I find very exciting. And he tells me about his life as the Count of the city, which I find less exciting. 

He likes to talk about himself, is the most important thing I’ve learned. 

But I think he enjoys listening to me, as well. 

Occasionally, Julian and Portia will come and do work in the parlor, which I take as an excuse for them to hang around us to. Julian likes to tell stories as well, and I learn that he knew Lucio when he was a mercenary. But he tells us stories of his own adventures, including his time as a pirate. 

Other people will visit too. Some of who are more likeable than others. A dove comes in occasionally, but only when we’re eating something. My least favorite of the others is a person with horns like a beetle, but they’re just too violent for my tastes. Lucio tolerates the other visitors. 

He heals pretty fast, all things considered. By the time he is okay to walk around for more than two minutes, my calf has been healed for a few days, and two weeks have passed since I left the palace. 

I assumed that after he healed, he would go back to virtually ignoring me. But he doesn’t. We eat more meals together, or walk around the garden, mostly in silence. They’re never awkward, those silences. He likes to watch the birds that fly around the garden, so we’ll sit on one of the stone benches and watch, sometimes. There’s a lot of animals that wander around the gardens, and Lucio has to stop and watch them if we come across them on our walks. It’s endearing.

That isn’t to say we don’t still have moments of tension between us. 

We’ll argue over things, or he’ll cross a line with me, insult me or be careless with his words, and I’ll have to leave in order to not get upset. He takes my insults better than I would expect, but he’s able to twist them to throw them back at me. But I’m not afraid of him anymore, and after I’ve calmed down I’ll come back. If it was my fault, I’ll apologize. If it was his fault, he’ll never verbally apologize, but he’ll be kinder for the rest of the day, letting me choose the activity or letting me dominate the conversation, sometimes letting me choose the main course. Little things. 

I count my silver linings carefully.

****

We’re on one of the stone benches in the garden, the wind rustling the fabric of my dress and my hair, which I’ve tied up in a simple knot. I’m embroidering, as usual, and he’s quiet. It surprises me how quiet he can be sometimes. 

I’m finishing a complicated stitch when I accidentally prick my finger on the needle. It doesn’t hurt too bad, just a quick sting, but I still inhale sharply. “Ow.” I mutter, more out of habit than anything. 

“Are you okay?” Lucio asks, and I start. I had almost forgot he was there. Well, as much as you can forget a giant goat that’s sitting two feet away from you. I look up at him, and he’s gazing down at me, concerned. I smile. 

“I’m fine, just pricked my finger. Nothing bad.” I say, bringing my finger to my mouth to lightly suck on my finger, which is really just holding it to my lips for a second. The pain goes away quickly. 

Lucio clears his throat, and goes back to watching the birds. I try to continue stitching, but my mind keeps wandering off. Wandering off to the man beside me, and I’m struck by an odd feeling. A… not bad feeling, but it still freaks me out more than I’m willing to admit. 

Lucio’s different than I thought he was, or maybe he’s changed in the weeks since I ran out. He’s no Prince Charming, but to be fair, I never expected to be swept off my feet by a knight in shining armor. 

****

_Asra’s shop. Incense burns somewhere I can’t see, filling the room with the smell of frankincense. The normal busy sounds of the street outside aren’t as oppressive as they feel midday, when the shop is open for business. For the first time, I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or projecting into Asra’s dream._

_That is, until Asra walks into the front room from the card reading room, and I know I’m really, truly seeing him. His eyes widen, and then his shocked expression morphs into a relieved smile. “El… are you really here?” He asks, and I nod. He rushes forward and envelopes me in a hug. Asra hugs like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. I breathe him in. He smells like home… and yet, there’s something missing. I pull back._

_“Asra… Why am I just now able to see you, talk with you?” I ask, and he grows silent in thought. I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t really know. “I have talked with someone else through my dreaming… the Countess.” He looks at me sharply. “But I don’t know how I did that, either.”_

_“Enough about dreaming that we can’t explain. How are you?” He asks, clearly wanting to change the subject. I allow him, used to his mysterious ways, but a bit annoyed that he dismissed my conversation with Nadia so quickly._

_“I’m… better than I thought I’d be.” I say, thinking carefully about my words. If I say the wrong thing, Asra will think I need to be rescued, and I certainly don’t need that. “It’s not so bad.” He laughs, but it’s not kind. I don’t think he’s laughing at me, but it still stings. I step back even more, hurt, turning to examine the counter. Nothing’s changed since I left, aside from the absence of some merchandise. At least business is good, I suppose. “Faust is doing well.”_

_“Has he hurt you, in any way?” He asks, softly. I turn back to him. He looks concerned. I think back to Lucio throwing me around in his anger, to him pitching table legs in my direction. I know if I lie to Asra, he’ll know. I take a deep breath._

_“I’m not hurt.” Lying through omission is not great, but it’s better than lying outright. I am fine, currently. If this had happened a few days ago, Asra would have seen the bandages around my calf and the soreness around my hip- the bruise left there took a few days to fully heal. He doesn’t look reassured. “I can handle myself, Asra.”_

_“I know that but… you don’t know him like I do.” I wonder how true that is. I think back to the Lucio I’ve walked around the garden with, who I’ve sat content with while I work on needlepoint. The Lucio who worried over me pricking my finger. But I also think of the Lucio who threw me to the side for almost touching a portrait, who took my freedom._

_I’m conflicted._

_I trust Asra with my whole heart, but I also am beginning to trust Lucio, despite myself. I don’t want to hurt either of them._

_“I’ve seen him more angry than I’ve seen anyone.” I begin to say, and Asra looks like he’s about to interrupt. I hold a hand up, and he bites his lip. “But I’ve also seen him happy. He’s horrible, but his eyes are something else. They’ve threatened me, they’ve horrified me… but they also hold adoration when I least suspect it.”_

_Asra looks at me, and for once, I can’t decipher the look in his eyes._

_The dream fades, and I sleep, dreamless, for the rest of the night.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank
> 
> feel free to follow me @summercourtship 
> 
> any mistakes (or questions!!!!) feel free to comment or message me, idc


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh im sorry about the long wait for this, i’ve been dealing with some personal things and life stuff so i haven’t had the time or energy to write so i hope this chapter makes up for it??? so this chapter is a bit shorter, sorry!!!!!!!
> 
> this shit is cheesy as fuck dont come for me

Six months have passed since I first arrived here. Vesuvia doesn’t get cold winters, but there is an occasional chill in the air. January arrives with a vigour, and I find myself reading for a large majority of the time, Lucio occasionally accompanying me. Portia had showed me the library a few months back, and I’ve had a stack of books I was slowly making my way through. Lucio doesn’t read- but, to be fair, I’m not sure if he’s able to read. This thought brought me out of my book, and I looked up at him. 

“Can you read?” I blurt out, abruptly breaking the silence we had surrounded ourselves in. He started slightly, but hid it very quickly, glancing at me cooly. 

“Of course I can read.” He says defensively. “I just won’t waste my time on books.” 

“Well, it’s not like you’re doing much of anything else,” I say “you’re just sitting around doing nothing most of the time.” He rolls his eyes and goes back to staring into the fireplace. I purse my lips. “I don’t consider books to be a waste of my time. For me they’re… they’re an escape. I can live lives I would have never been able to through these books and stories.” He looks over at me, strangely. 

“Do you really hate me that much?” He asks suddenly. 

“What do you mean? Of course I don’t hate you. If I did, I would have let you die all those months ago.” I say, confused. 

“Then why do you need to use books to live out your life?” He spits out, and I roll my eyes. 

“I don’t do it because I hate you.” I hold up the book I’m reading as an example, “I don’t think that, even if I was mingling about in the outside world, I would be able to become king through pulling a sword out of a stone.” 

He scoffs and I turn back to my book. A few more moments pass before- “I do want you to know that I can read.”

“Got it.” 

“I’m not done. I can read but if you wanted to read to me, that would be fine.” I stare at him for a few seconds, and he begins to falter under my gaze. “Alright! It’s been a very long time since I’ve had any reason to read.” He says, looking upset at himself for breaking so easily. “I only remember the basics.” 

I smile and scoot over on the couch, leaving enough space for him to sit. I grab a different book from the stack, and once he’s next to me, open it and slowly begin to read. 

After a few days, we finish the book and I am about to find another one to read when Lucio clears his throat, grabbing my attention. 

“Yes?” 

“We’re having dinner together tomorrow.” He says. 

“We always have dinner on Fridays.” I say back. He rolls his eyes. 

“A formal dinner.” He adds on, and I understand he means more formal than what we normally do, which is, in my mind, pretty damn formal. 

“Is there any particular reason?” I ask. 

He pauses, and almost answers before stopping himself. “No.” He leaves, almost comically fast, after that, leaving me alone in the parlor. 

***

I look in the mirror, examining the dress I’m in, having had it delivered earlier today. I don’t know where it came from, but I’ve learned to not question things here. It’s quite gorgeous, perhaps the most opulent dress I’ve ever seen, despite not being the type of dress I was normally attracted to. As I move back and forth in the mirror, the deep red fabric seems to float and flow around me, the glittery fabric catching the light and making it seem as if it were different shades of red. It was heavy, but still easy to move around in. The off-shoulder neckline of the dress meets about halfway down my chest, leaving a good amount of it exposed. At my waist the full skirt starts, layers upon layers of tulle with bits of glitter covering the entire dress. 

It was certainly something Lucio would like, if his paintings were to be trusted. 

Julian stands at one end of the room, having been the only person who I both trusted enough and was capable to help me into the dress. He offered to help me with my hair, but I politely declined, opting to do something myself. I had pinned pieces of it back, leaving most of my hair down, with hairpins encrusted with diamonds and rubies. 

I fiddle nervously with thin gold necklace, with only a simple rose-shaped pendant hanging off it. Julian moves over to me and takes my hands away from the chain. 

“Don’t worry about this.” He says, and I look up at him. 

“I’m not!” I say, defensively. He gives me a look, and I yank my hands away from his grip. “I just don’t know why this dinner is so special.” I look at where he stands over my shoulder in the mirror. “Do you know why?” 

He flushes, and I know he knows. “What is it?” 

“I can’t tell you.” 

I’m about to retort when the door pushes open and Portia sticks her tiny head in. “Dinner is served.” My nerves spiked, and I quickly look back at Julian, who simply motions for me to get a move on. I take a deep breath, hike up my skirt, and head out the door, Julian and Portia leading the way. 

The dining room is mostly empty, a simple string quartet playing a sweet and simple piece quietly in the corner. Instead of the normal long table, there’s a smaller round table situated in front of the large painting on the wall. 

Lucio hasn’t arrived yet, so I sit in my chair and wait, trying to not throw my glance around the room. The wine has already been poured, very generously, so I gradually sipped mine while the minutes passed. 

Finally, the doors open and Lucio strides into the room. Wearing actual clothes. Beautiful clothes, if I might add. A gorgeous red outfit, complete with a red cape that hangs off his one shoulder. I stand immediately, both out of politeness and shock. 

I wait until Lucio and I have sat back down to comment on the clothes. He looks away, and I smile. “They look nice, but I’m sure you had to have them custom made.” 

“All of my clothes are custom made.” 

“You know what I meant.” I snap back, before laughing quietly. “What is all this about?” I ask, but just as the question leaves my lips the servants bring out the food, and we don’t talk much while we eat. 

The meal is delicious, and it isn’t until the end of the meal, when the dishes have been taken away that I stand. I quickly move over to Lucio’s seat, and grab his hand, pulling him up. 

“Dance with me.” 

He pauses, before he smiles- which is always odd to see, a goat smiling. I place his one hand on my waist and we just slowly, barely, begin to sway. The quartet picks up on a waltz, and we begin to dance more deliberately, moving across the floor of the dining room. I’m sure there’s an actual ballroom in the palace, but the moment is too nice to ruin it by talking. My skirt sways around the both us, and it strikes me how well the color of it matches Lucio’s outfit. We continue to dance around the room, and I laugh as I’m twirled and spun around. It is a bit awkward, dancing with someone so much taller than me, but I ignore it, choosing to continue craning my neck to look at him in the face. 

As the song winds down, and we return to simple swaying, I rest my head upon his chest, feeling completely content. 

***

We sit on the veranda, basking in each other’s silence. That seems to be our constant mood. I observe the gardens, still blossoming beautifully even though it’s the middle of winter. 

“I- thank you.” He says, breaking the silence. I look over at him, confused. “For reading to me.” The clarification is odd, and leaves me feeling a bit disappointed for some reason. 

“Oh. You’re welcome.” I say back, looking back out. 

“Elowen, I-” He starts before stopping. “Are you happy here?” 

“Of course I am.” I say, truthfully, and he looks elated, and yet… “But there is one thing.” 

“Oh.” He says flatly. 

“I just… I miss Asra.” He looks away from me. “It’s been great here, getting to know you and Portia and Julian, but… Asra is essentially the only real family I have,” I explain, “and I just wish I could spend some time with him again, that’s all.” 

He’s quiet for a minute or two, and I fear I’ve ruined the light mood of the night, before he says “If I were to let you visit him, would you come back?” 

“Yes.” I say without hesitation. 

“Three months. You can visit him for three months,” He looks at me, “but if you don’t return at the end, I will be dead.” 

It’s dramatic, but considering all that’s happened… I don’t question it. I simply get up, smile softly at him and kiss him on the forehead before leaving him on the veranda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im notttt happy with this one just because it felt very unnatural writing through this writers block i have right now i hope it was okay??? so im posting this kinda hastily because i just cant stare at it any more. 
> 
> as always, feel free to comment about any mess ups or what not, my tumblr is summercourtship, so feel free to message/follow me on there.


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who has left a comment or kudos or bookmarked this work, it actually means a whole whole whole lot and is sometimes the best thing that happens in a day for me! SOOO thank you so much for taking the time to do that! 
> 
> This chapter is another one that is a lot of scenes just mashed together, so it does time jump a lot but it’s my story so I can do what I want. ;)

As I walk down the street, in a comfortable slip and shawl now instead of the elegant ball gown, the quiet sounds of the street that would normally have faded to the background of my mind are now too intrusive, too jarring. Sudden laughter from a pub startles me more than I’d like to admit, and I realize how quiet life at the palace was. Aside from Lucio’s occasional temper tantrum or Julian’s dramatic monologuing, the palace was filled of hushed tones and quiet stretches of time. I walk faster, bringing the shawl and my bag closer around me, as if I could shield myself from the sounds of the town and the gazes of its citizens. 

I soon find myself on the too familiar street, which now feels oddly foreign, and see my shop, quietly waiting for me as if I never left. Faust senses it too, as she peeks out from my bag, and I hear her hiss in delight. Sometimes I feel bad that I didn’t try to convince her to return to Asra, even though I know he felt better when she was with me. When I reach the worn door, I press my hand against it, unlocking the few wards placed upon it. The door creaks open and I step into the warm room, incense lightly wafting over to me. 

Home. 

But even as I think the word, something in me rejects it. While this small building has been something I’ve looked forward to seeing again- _really_ seeing, not dreaming it- there is something missing. I can feel an emptiness in the pit of my stomach, an uneasy feeling that doesn’t disappear as I make my way further into the shop. 

Creaking from the stairs is my only warning before Asra groggily comes into view. He blinks once. “El?” 

I nod, and he rushed forward, enveloping me in a warm hug, burying his face in my neck. “I’m home,” I say, breathing in Asra’s familiar scent. He breaks the hug after a minute or two of us embracing each other, and looks at me, brushing my cheek with his knuckles. 

“Why? How?” He asks. I smile softly and shrug. 

“I left.” The half-truth easily slips out of my mouth before I can stop it. I hadn’t even considered letting Asra know Lucio let me leave, even if on a time limit. “I waited until the time was right and I stole away.” 

I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t quite believe me, but I know he won’t press it. He simply smiles and says, “Let me make you your favorite tea.” 

After that, business around the shop returns to normal. We work in the shop from a few hours before noon to sundown. We eat a meal after we finish closing shop, and maybe practice some magic. My skills aren’t as rusty as they could be, having still frequently used them, but I know Asra wants me to progress to bigger and brighter things. 

We don’t talk about the fact that I’ve been gone for half a year, and we fall back into our normal routines as if I’d never left. 

I find myself, late at night when Asra has drifted off, or when I’m alone in the shop and business is slow, thinking of Lucio. I find myself humming the song we danced to, or laughing quietly when remembering some of our conversations. 

And then I look at Asra, and get angry at myself for being selfish, again, because my selfless action of sacrifice became the one thing I wanted most. I hate myself for letting him believe that I’m staying for more than a quick second, that I feel nothing but indifference towards my time in the palace and hatred towards Lucio. 

And I ignore the growing ache in my stomach when I think of Lucio, or Julian, or Portia, knowing that I’ll be back in a few months. And yet it feels like forever.

****  
 _  
I’m dreaming again. The garden is lush and filled with vibrant colors, more vibrant than in real life. It’s twilight, the world around me an ethereal blue. I walk silently along, the only sound being my footsteps and the occasional squawk of one of Lucio’s exotic birds. I continue through the garden, idly wondering who is in this dream. I’ve had a few with Nadia, and only the one with Asra. But Nadia rarely goes into the garden, and Asra would be in the shop._

_My answer comes when I approach the rose garden. In real life, it’s a mix of white and red roses, but in the dream they’re all white and in bloom. Lucio stands in the garden, checking on the different roses. But it’s the Lucio from the painting. He doesn’t seem to notice me, so I continue to watch him. He suddenly looks up and our eyes meet._

_He smiles._

_It makes my heart flutter, and I find myself smiling back at him. In the back of my head, I know that it’s only been one month, that he’s fine, but I still feel the roots of worry beginning to grow in my mind._

_“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice sounding weaker than I’ve ever heard it. It’s wobbling and cracking where it would normally be strong and resonant. He notices, and his smile turns into a cocky smirk. “Shut up.”_

_“I didn’t say anything.” He says. Before I can respond, he continues, gesturing around him. “I’m assuming this isn’t a normal dream. My dreams with you are normally much different.”_

_My cheeks heat, and I will a scowl onto my face. “Shut up.” I repeat. “And this isn’t a normal dream.” I answer his practically rhetorical statement. “It’s akin to lucid dreaming. A shared lucid dream between the two of us.”_

_He nods once, even though I’m not sure if he fully understands. “I’m fine, by the way.” He says after a few seconds. I remember my question from before. “I hope you’re not missing me too much.” He smiles, but I can feel his insecurity._

_“It’s only two more months.” I say. “Don’t go crazy waiting for me to come back. I promise I won’t be late.”  
_   
****  
The days slip by, some slow and some fast, but I quietly count the days in my head, keeping a tally. Occasionally my mind will go down a rabbit hole of “what ifs”, most of them centering around being late and getting back to the palace and finding Lucio’s dead body. The image in my mind is so vivid, it feels read. It certainly feels real when it shows up in my nightmares. 

And yet, even though I know I could return early, Asra’s change in attitude from my dreams with him is to nice to cut it short. He smiles and is warmer towards everyone, our customers and other random citizens of the city.

Sometimes, late at night, when I awake from a nightmare, I look at him. He sleeps so peacefully, and something tells me that he hasn’t been able to do this in a while. 

For all I did for him, sacrificing myself, it just turned into torture for him. Guilt wraps around my guts, and I wish I could somehow apologize for all the hurt I put him through and all the pain I’ll cause in the future. I let myself be held in his arms, and I hold him back, just to make up for everything that is to come. 

****  
 __  
When I open my eyes to the rose garden again, it’s dark. The moon is bright and full above me, bathing the garden in it’s pearlescent light. Lucio seems to be waiting for me this time, raising his eyebrows expectantly. He looks tired.

_I smile at him, not surprised that he is occupying my dreams again._

_“One more month.” He says, and I nod. Of course I know. I couldn’t not know._

_“I don’t know how to tell Asra.”_

_“Asra?” He looks at me, startled, before recovering as if remembering who I left him to visit. “He’ll get over it. He always does.” He stops for a second and considers. “Actually, I take that back.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Nothing.” He holds out his arm to me, and I take it. We begin to walk through the moonlit roses, their sweet perfume wafting through the air._

_“Why are you… the way you are, in real life?”_

_“You mean my charming personality?” He quips back._

_“No. You know what I mean.”_

_He goes quiet, and I almost consider elaborating more, in case he didn’t know what I meant, before he says, “I don’t really know. All I know is that Asra had something to do with it.” It should come as a shock to me, but I’m not sure if much could shock me about this situation anymore._

_“Do you know how to fix it?” I ask, quietly. The stars twinkle above us, the light from the city somehow not diluting their shine. I blame it on the dream._

_“No.”_

_And I know he’s lying to me, but I don’t press it. I’ll find out someday.  
_  
****  
“Hey, Asra?” I ask, a week or two later, as we walk down the street to the market. Business is as steady as ever, and it’s time for our normal shopping trip for ingredients. He turns to me, acknowledging my question. “Did you know Nadia- or the Countess, I suppose?” 

His walk doesn’t quite stutter, but he does momentarily tense up. “I did.” He’s watching me carefully. I nod. “How do you know of her?” 

“I dreamed her- the same way I dreamed to you.” I say, nonchalantly. “But maybe my mind just made up the whole thing, I never asked Lu-” I stop myself. I’ve avoided mentioning Lucio to Asra, afraid that Asra would see through my vague lies about how I came back. He barely believed them already, but to admit I lied is admitted I have something to hide, which I do. 

But I’m also hiding it from myself, avoiding thinking about it. 

I fall silent for the entire trip, until Asra starts talking about Nadia again on the way back. 

“I knew Nadia.” He says. “She disappeared when Lucio was murdered. No one really knows where she went.” 

“Do you think she’s still in the palace?” I ask him. 

“You spent more time there than I did, you tell me.” He says in return, the first time he’s actually breached the topic of my stay there. 

“I… There were large portions of the palace I never even ventured into, I don’t know.” I say quietly. We’ve reached the shop again. He stops in front of the door. 

“You haven’t even bothered talking about your stay-” He spits out the word. The look of hatred on his face is something I’ve never seen before, except in that dungeon so long ago, “-in the palace, I need to know more to help you. You shouldn’t be worrying about the missing Countess.” 

“I don’t need help, Asra. I appreciate your concern, but I’m okay.” And I feel bad, because I know that I have to leave him again in a few weeks, and I haven’t even told him. I move past him and enter the house, feeling like shit. 

****  
 __  
A pink and purple sky stretches out above the roses, the third time I dream of him. The sun is peeking over the distant mountains, signaling the start of a new day. The morning air is cool and crisp, filling my blood with a sense of urgency, energy. He sits, head turned to the sky, eyes closed. I would think he was sleeping if I didn’t know any better.

_I move quietly to sit next to him, where he doesn’t tower over me in a monstrous form, but is only a few inches taller than me. There’s a distinct chill in the air, one that doesn’t normally occur in Vesuvia. I scoot closer to Lucio, and gently place my head on his shoulder- the human one._

_I know without looking at him that he has a smirk on his face. I consider lightly smacking his arm, but it has already snuck itself around to my other side, holding me close against him. I’m comfortable, and I breathe him in. An hour passes, as we quietly sit, enjoying each other’s company. It reminds me of all those afternoons where he’d watch the birds quietly, and I’d sit reading or embroidering… It reminds me of home._

_“Elowen.”_

_I look up at him. He’s looking at me, his silver eyes sad. And then I realize with a cold start that it’s the morning of the fourth month._

_And I’m late._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last one (or should be!)! I’m gonna try to get the next chapter up before next week because I start working on a show on Halloween (yay…) and won’t have any time after that for a few weeks (until about Thanksgiving). So hopefully I will be able to get it out before then and be done with this sucker!!!!! 
> 
> There won’t be a sequel but I was thinking about making another “collection” of sorts, with some “deleted” scenes, maybe something from Lucio’s POV (but I’m wary to do that because he’s very hard for me to write) and maybe some like,, post story scenes. Would anyone be interested in that?? Hahaha.
> 
> Again, if any mistakes let me know and I'll see what I can do about them! :))


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two updates in two days???? Yeah, I was really motivated for this one. It's the last one, folks!

I wake with a start, my body covered in cold sweat. I quickly recount the days since I left the palace, even though I know the answer. I know that today is April 13. I know that three months have passed. After a moment of letting my mistake sink in, I leap out of bed, the sudden movement causing Asra to blink awake, and look at me groggily. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice still gravelly from sleep. I grab my bag and throw some miscellaneous items in- some coins that rest on the bedside table, my notebook, a shawl, some crystals and other assorted rocks that are laying around. 

“I have to go back.” I grab my looser pants and quickly pull them on, along with the first shirt I see, the one that’s been hanging off the dresser drawer for weeks now. Asra sits up after realizing what exactly I mean by “go back”. 

“What? Why?” He asks, and I interrupt before he can continue on, try and convince me to stay. 

“He’s in danger.”

“Lucio?” I nod, wanting him to just let it go. I’m wasting precious time by just talking with him. “Why do you care?” 

I pause, unable to fully form the words that I’ve desperately tried to avoid even thinking to myself. “I care for him.” I say instead, allowing Asra to glean the rest. “ I promised I’d go back to him, and I’m late.” I move to the door, but Asra grabs my wrist as I pass. I look back at him. 

“When were you going to tell me this?” He looks sad, and I once again hate myself. 

“I don’t know. I think I wanted to yesterday, but everything was so nice between us. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt you.” I say quietly, almost whispering. He lets go of my wrist, and my arm falls to my side, limp. When I look him in the eyes again, they’re cold and I know even though I desperately avoided trying to hurt him, I know I did anyway. Before he can say anything more, I turn and leave the room, slipping on my boots as I stumble down the thin stairs. I didn’t allow myself to think about how I was probably dead to Asra now, or how I might never return to the quaint little shop that was my home for so many years. 

All I can think about now is saving Lucio. It’s my only thought as I race through the dark city streets, the first rays of morning peeking over the buildings and trees. The market is just waking up, cart vendors opening their stalls for business. But I can’t stop to talk to any of the vendors who wave or shout greetings my way. Every footfall feels like the ticking of a clock that’s impossible to race against. 

When I reach the stairs that lead through the city to the palace, I don’t even bother pausing to catch my breath before beginning my ascent to the top. It takes longer than I want to admit, and by the time I reach the top, my shirt is sticking to my back from sweat and I need to stop for a minute, wishing I brought water. 

The palace looms in front of me, the last obstacle between Lucio and myself. The rusted gate is closed, shut from when I left three months ago, having spent a few minutes gazing up at the palace after gently shutting it behind me. Now, I yank it open, not caring if it damages the gate, and let it slam shut behind me as I run across the bridge, my bad slamming into my side repeatedly. 

I burst into the palace, ice creeping in and around my heart, my mind racing with broken promises. It’s eerily quiet, none of the creatures who normally loom around corners near. It reminds me of my first time coming here, all those months ago. Except then I had Faust, and now I’m alone, tasked with finding someone on a time limit. 

_Where is he?_

I send my magic out, letting it search for any life force. If it didn’t lead me to him, if he couldn’t be sensed because he was already…gone, it would take me to someone who could. The first person I feel is in Lucio’s wing, and I quickly set off to the stairs I’ve always managed to avoid. When I finally reach them I don’t even stop to contemplate them or remember the last time I ventured up these steps, just hurry up the stairs. By now, I’ve felt a few more people scattered around here, but the one that is pulling me the strongest is in his bedroom. And I know it has to be him, and I’m relieved that I can still feel him, that he’s still holding on. Just barely.

I throw open his door, and enter his room. I almost trip over a table leg that lays on the ground, and I wonder if it was the same one that was thrown at me. 

Lucio sits in one of the few still intact ornate chairs that faces the wall, and I’m taken back by his form, having gotten used to seeing him as the human I met with in my dreaming. In front of the chair stands the large portrait, the only one undestroyed by him. Where before it had only been slightly rotted, over the months the decay had spread inward, leaving only fragments of the art in tact. I move to stand near him, to see him finally. His chest rises and falls slowly, as if it hurts, and he slowly looks at me. The relief I feel from the movement is short lived, and I can feel it in the air that he’s dying. 

“You came back.” He speaks slowly, his voice hoarse from either misuse or neglect, I can’t tell. Maybe both. Did he spend as many hours longing to see me again as I had him? Did he yell and scream in frustration, as he is wont to do, or did he lock himself away in this room to rot away as if he never expected me to return? 

“But not soon enough. I’m late, and you’re dying because of me.” I kneel down by his chair and almost sob, all of my fear washing over me, stinging my nerves. He was going to die. It had been a singular fear in my thoughts for so long, one I hadn’t thought would actually happen, but I was living it out right now. 

“At least I got to see you, one last time.” He gives me a smile. 

“Don’t say that. I’m sure I-I can do something! You can’t just die on me, not like this. I’m home now. Everything will be fine.” I babble, stalling, knowing that there really wasn’t anything I could do to fix this. I was the one who caused this, I was the only solution to the problem and I fucked it up. He shakes his head, and after a few moments it falls to his chest, where the rise and fall of his breathing slows to a stop. 

“No! No. Don’t leave me… I… I love you.” I say the words that I hadn’t been able to even comprehend before yesterday, and yet I know that they can’t save him. 

Before I can even rest my head on his lap, and let the sobs and grief rack my body, his body disappears into wisps of grey smoke. I watch them rise towards the ceiling, fading away into nothing. The room is deathly silent. I sit, stunned and staring at where his body was just a few seconds ago, my tears stopped in their tracks. He is gone. 

It feels like hours have passed by the time I slowly rise from my position, and numbly move to the door. I walk through the wing, not even noticing that all the paintings have been restored, that dust no longer covered every surface. Mercedes and Melchior come bounding up the stairs at me, but I move past them, dismissing them with a weak wave of my hand. They continue to follow me as I descend the staircase, but as soon as I reach the bottom stair, I collapse into a ball, and they scatter. 

I had given up so much to be here, and I was still too late. Lucio died. And I feel the icy realization that I did it all for nothing creep up on me. I suddenly burst into laughter. Laughter at my situation, at everything that had happened, and how much I had royally fucked up everything that led to this moment. It’s so ridiculous. And then I thought of Lucio again, and the fact that I wouldn’t be able to spend my life with him, and I couldn’t even bury him, and my laughs quickly dissolve into screaming sobs. 

I must have sat there for at least thirty minutes, before gentle hands lift my face up. I blink up at the stranger through my tears. A young woman, with bright eyes and fiery red hair smiles softly down at me. “Let’s get you fixed up.” She said. 

“P-Portia?” I hiccup, quickly recognizing her voice. She nods, pulls me up from my almost fetal position on the floor, and leads me back to my room, which was kept in near perfect condition. She helps me undress from my clothes I had hastily thrown on this morning, which already feels like it was lifetimes ago. I look in the mirror, and shudder at my red, puffy eyes and disheveled hair. Portia pulls a soft nightgown from the dresser, despite the fact that it’s barely noon. Once I’m dressed, she begins to brush through my hair and twisting it into one, long braid. She hums a bright tune while she does this, and I can feel myself calming down, my mind falling into a numb silence.

With her gentle hands guiding me into the too large bed, she quickly lights a candle and leaves the room while I drift into a dreamless sleep, glad for the reprieve sleep offers me. When I open my eyes again, the room is the distinct blue of dusk, the previously lit candle my only source of light. I slowly sit up in my bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I feel rested, but the events of the day crash down upon me and the pit of despair and anxiety in my stomach opens up once again. 

I think back on my conversations through the months with Lucio. I remember the dreams with Lucio while I was gone, the quiet intimacy they held, and have the sudden urge to visit his garden of roses. Maybe I can figure out something to do with them, do something if I can’t bury his body. 

I slip out of bed and don’t even bother putting on the silk slippers that are neatly resting beside the bed before I quietly leave my room and head to the gardens. I thankfully encounter no one on the way, and my soft footsteps on the marble floor are the only noise in the large and lifeless palace. 

When I enter the veranda, closing the door I used quietly behind myself, the wind is cool and the crickets quietly chirp their contentment around me. My nightgown trails behind me, and I’m suddenly filled with urgency to get to the rose garden. I have to see it now. It feels like there's a rope pulling me to it, and I begin running, the skin on my feet tearing on rocks and sticks that litter the pathways but I don’t stop- I _can’t_ stop. 

I smell the perfume of the roses a few seconds before they come fully into view, and when they do I’m almost stunned. The roses are all in full bloom, despite it being April. But even more stunning is who is standing in the garden, who I must have known, somehow, was waiting for me. 

Lucio examines a rose particularly closely, mirroring the first dream I had with him. I know he’s faking it, that he must have heard me crashing through the garden, but I can’t bring myself to be annoyed at him. How could I? I move closer to him, so close to where he can probably just sense me near him with his peripheral senses, but he still doesn’t look up at me. It isn’t until I’m almost two feet away from him and I quietly clear my throat that he looks up at me. His silver eyes meet mine, and I feel a thrill of shock and adrenaline travel up my spine. He smiles at me, and I smile back at him, a bit more watery than his, almost on the verge of tears again. 

“So, you really love me, huh?” He says, turning and looking down at me. 

“Shut up, asshole.” I take a step forward and throw myself at him, just holding him tight. I hold him until he pulls away from me, and I’m about to complain and just pull him back when he kisses me. I still for a split second before returning the favor. 

And despite everything that’s happened, and everything that I know needs to happen for everything to be okay, in this moment right now, I feel completely at home, there in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For one last time on this story, thank you all SO SO SO much for reading, commenting, subscribing, making bookmarks or subscriptions, or even just liking the posts I'd make on tumblr about this thing. 
> 
> I have the full playlist I listened to while writing on my profile, but I'll list some of the songs I really listened to a lot while writing:  
> -Sing to the Moon (Laura Mvula)  
> -Flightless Bird, American Mouth (Iron & Wine)  
> -End of Love (Florence + the Machine)  
> -Whisper (The Deer Hunter)  
> -Turning Page (Sleeping at Last)  
> -Awake My Soul (Mumford and Sons)
> 
> Once again, thank you all so much.


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